Mudlarking: Looking Good
By Jason Sandy
Roman artifacts in Museum of London (Jason Sandy).
For millennia, personal appearance and hygiene have been very important to people around the world, and many went to great lengths to look after themselves. For instance, Roman women wore makeup, perfume, and fashion accessories, and they styled their hair to enhance their appearance. Roman cosmetic sets, make-up stirrers, perfume bottles, brooches, decorated pins, hairpins, and many more fascinating artifacts (above) have been found in London and are on display in the Museum of London. Similar objects recovered from the River Thames demonstrate that Londoners were very conscious about their outward appearance and wanted to make a good impression.
Illustration of Celtic mirror decorated in the La Tène style in the National Museums Liverpool (Jason Sandy). Roman pewter mirror (PAS).
Since at least the Iron Age, mirrors have been used to see one’s reflection. Celts living in the Thames Valley owned elaborate, decorative mirrors, and a few of them have been found in the river in West London. One of the most extraordinary Celtic mirrors discovered in the Thames (above left) is called the “Mayer Mirror,” which is named after the Victorian collector, Joseph Mayer, who donated his collection to the World Museum in Liverpool in 1867. The 2,000-year-old mirror is a spectacular work of Celtic art and is decorated in the “La Tène” style. Dating from the 1st century BC–mid 1st century AD, the elliptical shape of the bronze mirror is engraved with a series of delicate circles, lobes, and interlocking, crescent shapes within three larger circular forms. The undulating, curvilinear decoration is accentuated by an incised, cross-hatch pattern comprised of fine, parallel lines. At the base of the mirror, the handle is formed in a teardrop-shaped open loop with raised, circular bands. On the other side of the mirror, the bronze surface was highly polished to create a reflective surface to see one’s face. You can just imagine an elegant Celtic woman styling her long, flowing hair using this mirror.
Small, portable mirrors were also popular throughout the centuries. A few years ago, a mudlark discovered an unusual Roman mirror (above right). Dating to the 3rd–4th century AD, this discoidal mirror was cast in pewter and has a central, circular recess in which the reflective mirror would have been fixed. On the front of the mirror, a series of concentric circles radiate from the center. Each band has a different type of decoration including undulating waves, spiral shapes, and pellets. On the back of the 57mm (2 ¼ inch) diameter mirror, a sexfoil flower and pellet motif appears within the central boss. The thin, integral handle of the mirror has two spiral, foliate shapes on either side.
Medieval mirror case depicting the crucifixion (Mark Paros). A child’s toy mirror (PAS).
Several years ago, Mark Paros discovered a delicate medieval mirror case (bottom center), which is decorated with an openwork pattern cast in pewter. It is the lid of a two-disc mirror case, which would have been hinged together with a pewter lug at the base. Within the circular frame of the mirror case, which has beveled edges and a pelleted border, the scene of crucifixion is depicted. In the center, Christ appears with arms raised and hands nailed to the cross. On either side of Christ, the haloed figures of Mary and Saint John appear. The sun and crescent moon are illustrated above the cross. The case would have been fitted with a circular piece of glass and tinfoil backing to create the reflective surface. It is possible that this mirror is a pilgrim’s souvenir which was purchased at a shrine during a pilgrimage in the Middle Ages.
Miniature mirrors have also been found in the River Thames, providing evidence that children owned mirrors as toys. A beautiful example has been cast in an openwork pattern (above right) and dates to the 17th–18th centuries. The mirror has an integral hanging loop with decorative scrollwork at the top. Between the outer and inner rectangular frames, the openwork pattern is comprised of criss-cross decoration and a diamond fret work pattern which resembles twisted rope. A beaded decoration appears along the edge of the inner frame. On the back, there are three fixing points where a reflective backing sheet would have been secured. You can just imagine a child playing with this miniature mirror and imitating their parent.
Roman hairpin on the Thames foreshore (Jason Sandy).
One of my best-ever finds from the Thames is an extraordinary hand-carved bone hairpin (above) depicting the bust of a Roman woman with an extremely large coiffure. The nearly 2,000-year-old hairpin provides a unique glimpse into Roman hairstyles of the Flavian period (AD 69–96) when it was fashionable for women to wear their hair in high false curls. Based on the hairstyle illustrated on the pin, the Museum of London has dated the hairpin to AD 43–100. I donated it to the Museum of London where it is now on permanent display in the Roman gallery.
Various Roman bone hairpins (PAS). Roman hairpin depicting an elephant (PAS). Medieval ivory comb (PAS).
In Londinium, Roman women wore their hair in braided buns and used decorative bone pins with ornate designs to secure their hair in place. Over the years, numerous hairpins (above left) have been found on the foreshore by mudlarks. Carved by hand from animal bones, the finials of the pins have various geometric shapes and styles.
Several years ago, Jason Davey found an exquisite Roman hairpin (above center) carved from African ivory in the shape of an elephant. Two abstract birds are depicted underneath a thick plinth on which the elephant is walking. These exquisite, decorative hairpins would have been worn to display a woman’s wealth and social status.
For millennia, people have been styling their hair with combs. Along the Thames foreshore, mudlarks have found a wide variety of combs from the medieval and post-medieval periods made from ivory, bone, and boxwood. One of the oldest and most complete examples is a medieval comb (above right) dating to AD 1200—1500 found by Peter Olivant. Carved by hand from a single piece of ivory, this comb has a lentoid cross-section with fine teeth on one side and larger teeth on the other side. After centuries lying on the bottom of the Thames, it’s amazing that the comb has survived unbroken in the turbulent river currents.
Tudor bone comb (Jason Sandy).
A few years ago, I discovered a delicate, fine-toothed Tudor comb (above), which was hand-carved from animal bone. In the 16th century, almost everyone was plagued with lice and nits (lice eggs) in their hair. The fine teeth of this comb were used to carefully remove the small pests.
In 1545, King Henry VIII’s ship called the Mary Rose sank during a battle off the coast of Portsmouth, and it was recovered in 1982. On board, 82 Tudor nit combs were found, which the sailors had owned. Under a microscope, dead lice are still visible between the comb’s teeth. Based on the nit comb’s original purpose, the phrases “go over with a fine-toothed comb” and “nit-picking” became common expressions in the English language that are still used today.
Painting of King George II, 1727 (Christian Friedrich Zincke). Georgian wig curler in the Thames (Jason Sandy). Collection of clay wig curlers (Malcolm Russell).
From around 1650 until 1800, men and women would cut their hair short and wear a periwig (above left) to avoid pesky head lice. It was fashionable to style the wigs with curls and cover the hair in a white powder consisting of a mixture of wheat, corn flour, highly refined starch, and even plaster of Paris. Similar to modern day hair curlers, the hair was wrapped around pre-heated wig curlers, left overnight, removed in the morning, and styled to create an impressive appearance. Wig curlers were made from the same fine, white clay used to produce clay pipes. I have found many Georgian wig curlers (above center) on the Thames foreshore, although most of them are broken. Dating to the 18th century, several complete wig curlers (above right) have been found by Malcolm Russell.
Victorian bear’s grease lids (David Hodgson). Victorian glass bottle from Harlene (Sarah Newton). 19th-century advertisement for Harlene.
Since the beginning of time, men have suffered from hair loss and baldness. In the 19th century, different remedies and creative cures for baldness were developed. While mudlarking, David Hodgson discovered two lids from Victorian porcelain pots (above left) which had contained bear’s grease. The artwork on one of the lids depicts the capture of a Russian bear, and the words, “GENUINE BEARS GREASE,” appear on the other lid. This ointment was produced from the fat of furry Russian brown bears, which was believed to strengthen and stimulate human hair growth. Out of desperation, Victorian men would rub the greasy substance on their hairless scalps, hoping to magically cure their baldness.
Sarah Newton found a Victorian glass bottle (above center) in the Thames with the molded lettering, “HARLENE FOR THE HAIR.” A 19th-century advertisement (above right) for the product claims it is a miraculous remedy for all hair ailments and promotes the growth of beards and mustaches, restores grey hair to its natural color, removes dandruff, and cures weak and thin eyelashes.
Bone toothbrushes in various shapes and sizes (David Hodgson). Victorian toothpaste lids (Sarah Newton).
Based on the number of Victorian toothbrushes recovered from the Thames foreshore, we know that Londoners cared about the appearance of their teeth in the 19th century. Mudlarks Candace Kuss and David Hodgson have collected many different styles of 19th-century toothbrushes (above left and below left) carved from animal bone. The bristles would have been made of horse or boar hair.
Numerous types of lids from 19th-century pots of toothpaste (above right) have been discovered in the river by Sarah Newton. Cherry was a popular flavor of toothpaste and was even endorsed by Queen Victoria. According to the label, cherry toothpaste could be used for “BEAUTIFYING AND PRESERVING THE TEETH & GUMS.” The inscription on another porcelain lid says: “WOODS ARECA NUT TOOTH PASTE, For removing Tartar and whitening the Teeth without removing the Enamel.” These 19th-century toothbrushes and toothpaste lids prove that people cared about dental hygiene and were actively brushing their teeth.
Victorian bone toothbrushes (Candace Kuss). Victorian false teeth (David Hodgson). Real human teeth fixed to gold plate (David Hodgson).
If Victorians did lose an adult tooth, they went to the dentist to have a replacement fitted to maintain their perfect smile. David Hodgson has found many false teeth (above center) in the river dating to the 19th and early 20th centuries. He also retrieved two real teeth fixed to a gold plate (above right), which must have been owned by a wealthy Londoner. The dentures were engineered to fit comfortably in the mouth, and the authentic appearance of the false teeth proves that Victorians went to great lengths to conceal their tooth loss. I can imagine that the people who accidentally dropped these false teeth in the river were extremely embarrassed as they walked home with a toothless smile.
17th-century silver manicure set (PAS). Bone manicure set (PAS).
Since I was a kid, I have owned a Swiss army knife. I love it because it’s a portable, versatile tool containing all different types of practical gadgets such as a toothpick, nail file, nail cleaner, tweezers, and scissors. Portable cosmetic and manicure sets have been popular since the Iron Age, and exquisite Roman cosmetic sets are on display in the Museum of London.
A few years ago, John Higginbotham discovered a beautiful, silver manicure set (above left) in the Thames. Dating to the 17th century, the small tools are in the shape of a naked female body. The four implements are suspended from a silver ring at the top and are fixed together with a bracket and single lug so the tools can pivot and be used individually. The cosmetic set consists of an ear scoop, toothpick, and nail cleaner.
Dating to the late post-medieval period, a manicure set made of bone (above right) was found by a mudlark on the south side of the river. Three pivoting implements are attached to an outer frame with an iron pin. They consist of a nail file, nail cleaner, and broken ear scoop.
Medieval, brass twisted wire ear scoops (Jason Sandy). Tudor ear scoop in the shape of a unicorn (PAS).
Long before cotton buds and Q-tips existed, people used small scoops to remove the wax from their ears. I have found several medieval ear scoops (above left) that have a very simple design. They are formed from twisted, brass wire with a loop at the end for removing ear wax. The projecting wire at the base could be used as a toothpick. These types of simple ear scoops were easily and cheaply produced in quantity, similar to inexpensive cotton buds today.
In the 16th century, the Tudors produced highly ornate ear scoops decorated with zoomorphic patterns. One of the finest examples in the Museum of London is carved from bone into the shape of an elaborate seahorse. A few zoomorphic ear scoops have been recovered from the river. Caroline Nunneley discovered the top of a stunning 16th-century ear scoop resembling a beautiful unicorn (above right). Although the horn and ear scoop are now missing, the head of the unicorn is beautifully carved from an animal bone. The circular eyes are formed with rings and dots, and a long beard extends from the unicorn’s chin below the mouth and nostrils. Four diagonally incised lines on either side of the neck represent a mane.
Victorian ointment pots (Candace Kuss and Jason Sandy).
In the 19th century, personal health and well-being were very important to Londoners. The empty jars and lids found in the River Thames are evidence of the wide variety of medicinal products which were in use in Victorian times. At home, Londoners had ointments for everything. Candace Kuss found a tantalizing fragment of a Victorian ointment pot (top left), and I have seen a complete one of these pots in the Museum of London archive (top right). According to the inscription on the pot, the ointment was for “inveterate ulcers, sore breasts, sore heads, and bad legs.” It sounds like a cure-all cream!
Holloway’s ointment pot lid (Michal Knap).
In February 2022, Michal Knap discovered a beautiful, early 20th-century ointment pot lid (above). The ointment was produced by Thomas Holloway to treat gout, rheumatism, ulcers, and bruises. On the lid, an image depicts a classical scene of Hygieia (goddess of health, cleanliness, and hygiene) and her brother, Telesphorus, carrying a banner listing the business address and price of the ointment.
Since London was founded by the Romans nearly 2,000 years ago, it has attracted people from all over the globe. The small trading post developed into one of the largest, most influential cities in the world. As people lived in close proximity to each other in the city, they were conscious about their outward appearance and personal hygiene. They wanted to look good and make the right impression in public. Mirrors, hairpins, combs, wig curlers, remedies for baldness, toothbrushes, toothpaste lids, cosmetic sets, ear scoops, ointment pots, and many other historical artifacts recovered by mudlarks from the River Thames reveal the importance of personal appearance, hygiene, health, and well-being to Londoners throughout the ages.
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This article appeared in Beachcombing Volume 36: May/June 2023.
